


The Days leading up to You

by Kittywrites_reads



Series: Empty roads and Soft whispers [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Animal Death, Blood, Budding Love, Dream Smp, Flashbacks, Found Family, Gen, Guns, I know Sally isn’t an official character tag but I will populate it, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, One Shot, Pregnancy, They are soft for each other okay, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies, child birth, i hate that I have to put it but it’s for the plot to make sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:34:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28400985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittywrites_reads/pseuds/Kittywrites_reads
Summary: What is it like to travel in a pair, and what is like if that pair is a lonely musician and a heavily pregnant woman?Now what if it’s the zombie apocalypse, and danger seems to follow this pair.-Zombie AU-
Relationships: Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur/Sally - Relationship
Series: Empty roads and Soft whispers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2061366
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43





	The Days leading up to You

**Author's Note:**

> Two things; TW for mentioned childbirth, and death of a dog. Second; I don’t know how having kids actually works so take the writing with some leniency please.
> 
> Also please enjoy this! I had so much fun writing Sally (as I can write her however I want so I made her a strong and lovable southern girl, think Applejack from MLP and you’ll get her vibes) and I hope I characterized Wilbur good enough, he is kind of tough to write when it comes to relationships with an ambiguous/unknown character.

Being alone meant having to watch your own back, it meant having to be lonely in the late hours of the night, and on long stretches of road. Wilbur didn’t prefer being alone, of course it was safer than traveling in a group but it didn’t make it any less unbearable.

He had spent time with others, collecting food and sparse ammo but he hadn’t stayed with them long. He couldn’t afford to, they were always bound to slip up and get them all into danger. And quite frankly he didn’t want to die to the hands of small children, or loudmouth adults.

He had bonded with people on his travels, people he’d meet time and time again. People like Sally, and her dog Fungi. They stumbled upon each other in a factory, both digging through boxes and barrels. Sally happened to notice him first, and promptly hit him over the head with a wooden crate’s lid. He yelled loudly, before collapsing luckily the wood didn’t knock him out cold, and he was able to shield his head and call out for mercy.

“Woah woah woah! Calm down!! Jesus fuck you hit like a freight train.” He ground out, clutching his bleeding wound. Sally gasped loudly dropping the plank of wood. She bent down quickly, letting out a ramble of apologizes. Wilbur laughed then, at the circumstance of which they met, and Sally looked rightfully concerned. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I thought you were a biter.” She had a drawl, something Wilbur struggled to place, he guessed she was from America, namely the south. He nodded, brushing her hands away, to remove his back pack. He blinked back spots digging around his items to pull out a battered and broken med-kit. He grabbed it in shaky hands handing it to the ginger in front of him. She took it quickly, prying open its faded red cover. 

She was nimble fingered, and made quickly work of his injuries. After she was done, she patted it gently and sat back on her haunches. It was then, while Wilbur watched her lean away that he saw her coat part and reveal a heavily pregnant belly. He stared for a moment, confused and amazed. He never really knew there were people having children wandering alone. She met his stared before smiling lightly. “I guess we should introduce ourselves. I’m Sally Fisher, a training med-student before all this. And this is my Husky; Fungi.” Wilbur laughed loudly, holding out a bloody palm. “Wilbur Soot, aspiring video blogger. Nice to meet you both.”

And that’s how the days went on. They talked about life before and even after it all fell apart. Wilbur mentioned finding his family, and how Phil would love her. Sally told stories of her father who loved to sail, and how she wanted to be a medic overseas (She also said her father would have killed to have Wilbur as a son). Though the question of her pregnancy did come up, and she smiled sadly almost like she dreaded the day her child would be born. 

“So why’d you get pregnant? Oh that was rude I’m sorry. You don’t have to say why.” Sally looked at him from across the fire, she smoothed her ginger hair back, blinking for a moment. “I didn’t plan this whole thing you know? I don’t really even like babies. Kids are fine, they are cute but I never really planned on havin’ my own y’know?” Wilbur nodded silently urging her to continue. She sighed petting Fungi softly, the dog leaning into her touch. 

“I was with this group for a little bit, they were sweet people, you would’ve liked them sweetheart. But there was this one guy, his name was Alexi, or something similar. He hated when other people would talk to me, thought I was his property. I told him no a lot, but one day he didn’t take it too well and...you can guess what happened.” Wilburs eyes widened and he looked at her in shock. She didn’t look torn up, or even traumatized, hell she looked like she was plotting his murder. Wilbur spoke up softly, rubbing his hands together briefly. 

“So what’d the group do? They kick him out or what?” She giggled, shaking her head. “I love your optimism, but no. They didn’t do nothing. They told me to go and that they’d never want to see me again, and he got to watch me leave with a sadistic grin on his face.” It got quiet, the only noise was the sound of crackling fire, and Fungi’s panting. Wilbur looked angry, he was they had no right to kick her out and let that creep walk free. He stood abruptly growling softly. “I’ll kill him if I ever see him, you hear me Sally? I’ll kill him!” He faintly heard Sally sigh, and stand. He was stomping around mumbling about how to hurt this guy, when he felt soft hands on his forearms. He looked to Sally, seeing a sad expression on her face. She shook her head, clutching his arms tightly.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, honestly it’s in the past and it’s not worth your life to go hunt this guy.” He shook his head holding onto her shirt and jacket tightly. He opened his mouth to say more but Sally only gave him a firm look. He closed his jaw, pulling her close and hugging her tightly. She melted in his arms, moving to clutch him back just as close. They stood like that for a moment, just enough to affirm that they were there for each other, and that they would be fine.

Wilbur almost lost count of how long he’d been with Sally, he was torn between 16 and 20 days, but it didn’t matter at the current moment. What mattered was the horde of zombies running after them and Sally tripping over a split gap in the road. Wilbur called out for her running over to hoist her up, though as she was getting pulled up a zombie latched onto her ankle, she kicked and flailed, screaming loudly. Fungi heard the screams of them both barreling into the zombie, tearing a chunk out of its arm. It turned its attention away from Sally to the dog, reaching out and grabbing a handful of skin and fur. Fungi cried out, twisting harshly against the beast holding it.

They backed up, watching helplessly as the dog was surrounded with the hands made of rotten flesh. Sally sobbed quietly, as her dog got torn apart, they had to leave though so they turned trying to ignore the sounds of crying and howling. The sounds faded after a while, the only sounds were Sally crying and Wilbur comforting her softly. They had hid inside a small storage shed behind a burned house, catching their breaths and crying out their sadness. “Wilbur I loved him...god he’s really gone isn’t he?” She whimpered biting down on her hand to muffle her cries. Wilbur nodded solemnly, pulling her closer by the shoulder. He met no resistance and rubbed her arm. “I know. I’m so sorry, he was such a good dog. He didn’t deserve that...”

It took her some time to recover, it even took Wilbur some time to get over the loss of their companion. By the time they left their shelter the sun was beginning its descent down the horizon. They glanced at each other before deciding to trek quickly through the night in order to get to base camp. They passed old houses, and cars. They even went into a trailer park and looted some of the abandoned trailers. They didn’t find much, but Wilbur did excitedly show off a bar of chocolate to Sally. “Look Sal! It’s only expired by two years!” She laughed and they cheered happily at the find.

The second night fell on their walk back, and they noticed a barely lit fire on the highway. Wilbur stopped holding an arm out to stop Sally. They both watched for a moment before Wilbur turned slightly to whisper at her; “Who’s that? We didn’t leave a fire on the highway.” Sally shrugged whispering back, “I don’t know. Let’s go find out, we can’t go around the highway anyway it’s to dangerous.” Wilbur looked unsure but shrugged helplessly and they began to creep forward towards the fire. 

As they made steps towards the burning logs and paper, they noticed figures sitting by the fire chatting quietly. The two of them made it about twenty feet before someone cleared their throat behind them. “Hands up. Don’t speak, don’t do anything else.” The voice was raspy and deep. They both paled and turned towards their assailant eyes wide and hands raised. Behind them a young man stood, a rifle aimed at them. He wore a dirty green hoodie, with his sleeves rolled up to reveal black under armor. He had black pants that were shredded at the knees and he wore brown combat boots that were stained with blood and paint. Strangely he also wore a mask that covered his face, only showing his eyes and dishwater blond hair.

As they stood motionless in front of the threat, they heard the two figures by the fire scramble up and move towards them. Wilbur sighed heavily flopping his head to the side. Sally looked like she wanted to kill him then and there, the masked man with a gun be damned. The other two came over, fumbling with what Wilbur assumes are two guns, and swearing under their breaths. “Shit! Who are you and what do you want from us?” One voice, distinctly British spoke, high pitched and fearful. The masked man nodded as if to tell them to answer to which Sally did. She spoke in the fakest and sweetest voice he had ever heard from her. 

“Oh so sorry boys, We were just tryin’ to get home you know? We just want to go past you on this highway, and we will be out of your hair.” She laughed lightly, trying to ease the tension of situation. The two boys behind them moved around to stand next to their companion. One had on a blue shirt and white rimmed glasses, he held a silver revolver, a name etched into its butt. The other male stood widely, holding a double barreled shotgun. He wore a black turtle neck under a white shirt, and had a bloody bandana wrapped around his head. The trio glanced at each other before nodding. “Okay,” the one in the bandanna spoke first, he had a southern accent, one very similar to Sally’s. “You can stay with us for the night, the highways flooded with the dead. We checked that’s the whole reason we’re camping here.” 

The Brit nodded as well, smiling happily. Though the masked man said nothing. He only dropped his rifle back over his shoulder. He then moved to motion the rest of the group over to the heat of the fire. The group ended up chatting softly by the heat of dying flames. Wilbur had found out the Brit was known as George and SapNap was the Texan with the wide stance (which Wilbur promptly lighted at when they were by the fire). And their pseudo mute friend was Dream, he only seemed to murmur to George or SapNap, but not directly to Wilbur or Sally. 

The night passed quietly, the group never really talking for more than a few minutes at a time. By day break, the group had gotten to know each other well enough to not want to shoot at each other. As soon as the sun passed the horizon spreading a soft warmth and bright glow across the world, Wilbur stood pulling a very sleepy Sally up with him. “We should go. Thanks for not killing us last night, we appreciate it.” The three nodded, saying they would follow in the same direction after they slept for a bit. Wilbur and Sally waved farewell before traveling down the highway.

It’s raining when Wilbur realizes it’s been an entire month of knowing and traveling with Sally. It is also the landmark of it all going to shit, as she would say. It was raining, a heavy rain that flooded the streets and kept people inside. Luckily for them they were inside a building that didn’t flood with rain water, and remained warm throughout the storm. Unluckily though, the world decided it was time to Sally’s water to break. And that’s how the start of the day went, two people with no idea about child birth, going through a labor. 

Wilbur felt like he wanted to pass out, and he doubted Sally was doing any better. She seemed to bite back screams brilliantly, and Wilbur was kind of worried she would drop dead from the stress of it. It was a clunky start, Wilbur running around grabbing literally any piece of fabric he could find, and Sally telling him to grab a med-kit and calm down before he keels over. He complied, dropping the box next to her crouched form.

She was leaned against the wall, flushed and panting heavily. She looked pitiful and Wilbur would be lying through his teeth if he said he didn’t feel terrible seeing her like this. Sally looked up at him, a bead of sweat running down her face. “Wilbur, sweetheart why don’t you go on a walk. Seriously, go to the house next door. You look like you’re-” she broke off to drop her head and groan, “-like you’re about to fall out from stress. I’ll be fine, med-student remember? I’ve seen a few births during my residency time.”

Wilbur argued with her for a brief moment, wanting to stay and help, he didn’t want to feel useless. She glared at him after his tirade, and said in a solid and strong tone “Go outside. Now.” He gulped ringing his hands together before nodding hastily. He bent down kissing her forehead lovingly before grabbing his back and leaving. It was raining, and Wilbur was drenched as he went to the connected house next door. They shared a wall, so Wilbur hoped he’d be able to hear her, even if just barely.

He busted the door open, and stepped into the flat. He jammed the door closed from the inside, and scanned the open areas. Nothing was inside except for the reminisce of pet food and the bloody paw prints of a cat. “Oh I hope there’s a cat here, Sally would love to have another pet.” He didn’t find a cat as he went to the bedroom of the building. He only saw a messy bed and a destroyed closet of belongings. He tapped the wall loudly, hoping this was the connected wall. He waited a beat, and another before a small tap-tap echoed from the painted plaster.

He let out a sigh of relief smiling happily. He leaned against the wall, sliding down it to sit on the cold hardwood floor. It felt cold without Sally here, and he hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time her felt her presence near him. Wilbur didn’t pay attention to how long her sat there, he only tapped the wall every so often, and hummed tunes to himself and Sally. He hated hearing her in pain, but he wouldn’t go back to the house, she said to leave so he did. He respected her choice even if it was a very stupid one.

Wilbur dozed after sometime, warm from motionlessness and hand tired from making small beats against the wall. He woke every so often to a particularly loud cry from Sally, or from a strike of thunder outside. It was only a guess as to how Sally was doing, as a man Wilbur had no clue (literally he couldn’t fathom it) what she was going through at the moment. It got quiet when Wilbur woke next, which was unnerving to say the least. The rain had gone, and Sally stopped making noise. He flinched, moving to lean an ear against the rough wall. Nothing, it was silent so Wilbur rapped red knuckles against the rough paint job. He waited a while for a noise back, any noise even a breath would have eased his worries. Wilbur was halfway to the bedrooms door -ready to go and accept his, his Sally was one of those dead beasts, waiting to tear a chunk out of his flesh-when a meek knock on the wall stopped him. He whipped around running back to the wall, dropping onto his knees. 

He tapped excitedly, yelling to the plaster. “Sally? Sally! Are you okay?” He swore he could hear her angelic chuckle from the other side and if he thought hard enough he could picture her form, sat back leaned against the wall, hands folded neatly over her lap. She sounded exhausted, and rightfully so, if the soft crying overlapping her voice was anything to go by. “Come back to me my love.” And that was all the notice Wilbur needed before tripping and falling his way out of the house and across the shared lawns. He slipped hitting the wet turf, he didn’t stay down for long shaking off his fall and bursting into the house.

She was right where he left her, against the shared wall that they had been tapping on. She was sitting, leaned against the wall, a blue quilt thrown over her legs, it also covered any rags and medical supplies she had scattered around herself. Her hair was a messed, the braid it was set in messy with thick strands of red hair falling out and sticking to her face. She was flushed, and had tired eyes trained on the bundle in her arms. That was the moment he knew, this soft spoken, and outlandishly gorgeous woman was the only thing he wanted to be near for the rest of his time on this planet. 

“You’re beautiful.” She smiled before rasping out a tired laugh. She looked up to him, eyes shining brightly. “You aren’t so bad yourself doll.” They laughed for a moment before Wilbur sat next to her. She took the chance to lean against him, leaning over to show him, “Fundy. After Fungi. That’s his name.” Wilbur laughed fondly, before taking Fundy with gentle hands. “Hello Fundy. I’m Wilbur,” he glanced at her, his one and only before speaking with so much love it made him feel lightheaded, “your dad.” Sally smiled happily patting his arm firmly. 

It had been thirty tough, and rewarding days leading up to you, to Sally, to Fundy, to family.


End file.
